You people really are fantastic. I hope you like this one!

Don't own.

Ch. 4: Living for the Weekend?

At work yesterday, while I was supposed to be doing God knows what with that article assignment, I started moving back into my mother's house. When I called her house, she was at home, and agreed to pay the cab fees.

I loved my mother. She was so good to me.

She just wanted me 'home and safe', and didn't care what it meant for her social life, or that she'd be buying twice as much food…

In fact, I think she missed taking care of me, when I went to live with my father, then moved out. I think that's why she moved from Arizona to New York, after just a year of me being here, after her other ex-husband Phil had gotten injured and couldn't play anymore.

They'd recently divorced, he moving on to greener pastures, like I'd expected from the start. I mean, he was at least fifteen years younger than her…

So she stayed here, to run the flower shop in person.

My grandmother had lived here, and had left the property and the flower shop to my mother, who had kept it running from Arizona, but just didn't bother with it, really.

Now that she lived here, she'd grown attached to it. What wasn't to love? Flowers, everywhere, with an apartment above the store, in a decent part of town…it was kind of cheap, but it wasn't scary. You wouldn't get shot or mugged walking down the street, here.

I was supposed to spend the day sorting through my stuff, and deciding what could go and what could stay. My mother said she'd help me, then skipped out to lunch with a few friends.

I wasn't surprised, she was always pretty flaky.

So I decided to wait, and manned the shop. Since I was here, she felt that she could leave. It wasn't difficult, it was a flower shop. It was difficult to find things that could go wrong, here, even for me.

That's why I loved it so much. It was quaint, and calming.

The bell jingled, as someone entered, and I looked up to see who, but Jacob Black, striding toward me dressed in expensive but comfortable looking clothes.

"Smells nice." He said, sniffing the air.

"It is a flower shop." I reminded him, continuing to arrange a bouquet.

"That's great, I wanted to get some flowers." He grinned, and I rolled my eyes. Nothing bothered me more than prissy little rich boys playing coy.

"Anything in particular?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow. He was such an arrogant little brat, I wondered how he got a date.

Then again, money speaks louder than words…

Especially to the floozies he probably hung around with.

"Nah, not really. Just give me all of your favorites." He was still grinning, like he thought I found it attractive.

I almost snorted.

Idiot.

I handed him a pretty amazing bouquet, if I do say so myself, and went over the register.

"Who's the lucky lady?" I asked as I rang him up, taking his money and giving him his change.

"You." He said, offering me the bouquet. "Would you like to go to dinner, tonight?"

Are you kidding me? What a cretin! Was he deaf, the other night, when I'd told him no quite clearly and rather harshly?

"Jacob Black, of all the immature and stupid things to do…" I started, slamming the drawer shut and beginning to walk around the shop as I fumed. "Get it through your head! I know the atmosphere's thinner way up there, but No means no… means no, means no, means NO! Oh, and guess what, it STILL means no! That doesn't change! And what's worse, you just defiled all of my favorite flowers!"

"It's just dinner. I don't see why we can't catch up, or start up where we left off…"

"If I'm not mistaken, wasn't it you who broke up with me, because you were going to college in Boston, and I was staying here, and there were 'so many people out there, you didn't want to be tied down'?" I shot at him, thoroughly pissed. "Oh, I believe that was a direct quote, too."

Jackass.

"That was years ago! I was stupid, I know! But there haven't been any girls, I never saw anyone else!"

"Well maybe you should have." I said coldly. "Because you'll be waiting forever. I'm not going out with you again. You broke my heart once, you're not doing it again." I went to the door, and opened it. "Goodbye, Jacob!"

He scowled at me as he left, gripping the bouquet tightly and harshly. I cringed, upon seeing all my favorites treated like that, but there was no way I was going to accept his offer, even if it meant floral abuse.

I let the door slam, and went back to my arranging.

Who did he think he was, asking me out again?

I hadn't seen him for years, outside of the other night, and I didn't care to see him for several more years. Of course, now that he knew we were still at the flower shop, no doubt he wouldn't leave me alone…

God, I wish I had a boyfriend, if only for this reason!

Less than a minute later, the bell jingled, again.

"What part of goodbye don't you—" I started, turning around, and trailing off.

What the hell was Edward Cullen doing, in my flower shop?

He stood there, with his jacket on and his hands in his pockets, looking at me.

"Why are you here?" I couldn't help but ask, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. He may be my boss, but that didn't mean I had to be nice to him…

"Just checking things out." He shrugged, picking up a rose, then putting it back. "I noticed your things were gone from your office."

"Yeah." I said, unable to say anything else. What was he getting at? "I moved back in with my mother. We live above the shop."

He nodded, looking around.

"Mr. Cullen, why are you here?" I sighed, preparing myself for it.

I could just hear it.

'I said seven, tomorrow, not take a day off! You're fired!'

"To drop off the ticket for Monday's gala." He said, producing an envelope from his pocket.

"No, I don't think that's it." I shook my head. He was acting strange. "Why are you really here? You could give me the ticket on Monday, at the office."

"You need a cell phone." He said, as I read the invitation. "If I'm to work with you, you need a cell phone. We're going shopping."

"I can't leave until my mother gets back." I said absently. I was admiring the embossed gold lettering on the invitation.

Wait. Hold up. Rewind, freeze frame.

Did he just say he wanted me to go out in public with him, shopping for a cell phone?

Now THAT was odd.

"I have time." He shrugged.

I noticed he was a lot more mellow than yesterday. He was still cold and distant, but he was almost nice about it. I wondered why…

"Good to see you're dressed today." he said with a kind of smirk. "And I half expected to walk in here and find you in penguin pajamas, or whatever it was."

"Sheep." I couldn't help but smile. Looking back, I suppose yesterday was a pretty amusing situation. "But no, I only wear pajamas to the office. I actually get dressed, here."

He nodded slowly, a small smile on his face.

He really was a beautiful man, when he smiled.

It was a shame he was such a jerk.

We stood in an awkward silence for several minutes as I continued arranging, and watering plants.

Then, the door burst open and in strode my mother with several shopping bags and grocery bags on each arm.

"Bella, honey, I noticed you only had one set of pajamas, so I bought you some new ones, and some underwear—" she started, then noticed our guest. "Who's this? Your boyfriend? Bella, you've been holding out on me, haven't you? He's so handsome—"

"No, Mother, I haven't been holding out on you." I said, embarrassed. I could feel the blood rushing to my face.

Leave it to my mother to enter a room talking about pajamas and underwear. And then publicly announce that I was single, and that my boss was hot.

"This is Edward Cullen, he just bought the paper." I said in explanation, avoiding looking at Edward. He was, no doubt, having a field day with this. "Edward, this is my mother, Renee."

"Oh! It's a pleasure, dear, really." Renee said, and ventured forth like she wanted to shake his hand. "Sorry, no hands." She turned to me. "I'm having Betsy and Michelle over tonight for dinner. Do you mind? I just went shopping, and have all the ingredients for this wonderful recipe I found…would you cook it?"

"Yeah, no problem." I said, still embarrassed. "Um…Mom…we're actually going to go to a business meeting, so could you watch over things here for the afternoon?"

"Oh, certainly dear!" her voice said from the back, as she went up the stairs.

I could tell that she didn't believe me, and would no doubt ask me a million questions when I got back.

But that was better than trying to explain to her that we were going shopping. She'd make even more of a scene, and wonder why I needed a cell phone, and it was all just unnecessary.

"Have fun, kids!"

Have fun, with Edward Cullen. Riiiiiiight.

That was perhaps the most absurd thing I'd ever heard.

I was pretty sure he knew he was paying, and didn't bother grabbing my purse. I hardly used it.

"Alright, so where are we going?" I asked as soon as we got onto the street. It was mid January, and pretty damn cold today. I'd heard that it was supposed to snow, later on tonight. I wanted to get moving as soon as possible.

"She can't cook for herself?" he ignored my question, looking at me with a quirked eyebrow as we started walking.

"She can…I'm just better than she is." I said absently, pulling my jacket tighter around me. It was freaking cold and I didn't have any mittens… "I was going to be a chef, when I started college."

"Really?" His voice was surprised.

I was pretty clumsy, as I'm sure he'd noticed. I was pretty scatterbrained, too.

To tell the truth, the idea of me cooking entertained even myself, so I didn't doubt he was picturing me screaming in a kitchen while my soufflé is on fire.

I was, and I knew I could cook!

"How'd you get into journalism, then, if you were going to be a cook?"

Why did he care? I wasn't expecting this borderline interest in my life, I mean, it wasn't interesting…

"My father. He ran the paper. He started having health problems, and I started helping him at the paper. Since I was already there all the time, I decided to change my major. I was going to take over anyway." I shrugged, breathing on my hands to keep them warm. God, the wind in this city…

"Where are your gloves?" His voice sounded absolutely horrified, as we stopped at the corner to cross the street. I looked over and saw shock written on his face, at my bare hands.

"I don't have any?"

"Here, take mine." He said, standing in front of me and immediately taking his own gloves off, soft, expensive leather with wool on the inside…

"No, I'm fine." I replied, giving them back. "I do this every day, I'm fine."

"Bella, it's twenty degrees out, take the gloves." His voice was stern, as he noticed the condition of my coat. It was pretty sad, seeing as I'd had it for probably six years now, and I'd patched the shoulder where the wool had come apart.

It hadn't been a very expensive jacket, and it showed more and more with age…

I sighed, and accepted them, feeling the warmth immediately upon putting them on. His hands had warmed them up considerably, and they were rather toasty, despite how big they were on me…

"There, you happy?"

"I think we need to get more than a phone, today." he sighed, shaking his head at me. "What am I going to do with you? You live in your office, you work ninety hours a day, your coat looks like it went through a paper shredder, you drink awful coffee…"

"Excuse me, I live at my mothers, I now probably only work ten hours a day, this coat has been good to me for the past six years, and you're right, that was pretty awful coffee." I said indignantly, placing my hands on my hips.

He started laughing, as he hailed a cab, and it was then that I noticed how beautiful his hands were.

I know, it's weird that I noticed his hands before my eyes focused on his gorgeous smile, or the musical sound to his laugh, but I've never been normal.

And they were gorgeous hands.

His hands were oddly dainty, and elegant. He had long, slim fingers, perfectly trimmed nails and cuticles, and his skin looked soft in the cold New York air, as opposed to cracked and dried like mine…

He definitely had to be a pianist, with those hands.

Beautiful hands for a beautiful person, I suppose…

It didn't matter. I still thought he was a jerk.

"You are by far one of the most amusing people I've ever met." He said, after he gave the driver directions.

"What, amusing because I'm poor?" I said dryly, voicing my thoughts again.

Oh shit.

Why had I just done that?

I didn't mean to be defensive all the time, but I was sick of people pitying me. I was sick of my situation, and sick of the paranoia it gave me. It made me stupid, it made me voice my thoughts.

Things were going so well, he didn't look angry today…

I saw his eyes snap to my face for a moment, and knew that mine were probably sporting the ever so fashionable deer-in-the-headlights look.

"Nevermind." I murmured, looking away.

"Because you're different." He said, after a moment. He'd looked away from me, and looked like he was probably controlling his anger. I saw his fist clenched, those beautiful hands shaking with rage. "Because you're selfless. Because you gave up your dreams to help your family, and gave up your sanity to pay off debts that weren't yours. Because you're so stubborn you won't take help unless someone forces you to take it. Take your pick."

"Oh." I said, looking at my hands. My hands, in his gloves, that he'd forced me to take. I knew that he had a stronger will than I did, and if push came to shove, he'd shove harder than I would.

And he was right. I was stubborn, to a fault.

But I couldn't help it, I had to be. When life gives you lemons, then sure, you can make lemonade. But if life gives you dirt, how do you deal, do you make muddy water? What good does that do anyone?

"Is that why you're doing this?" I couldn't help but ask. "I'm the Cullen family charity project for this month?"

"You just don't get it, do you." He said condescendingly, shaking his head. So much for a good mood…

"Apparently not. Remember, I don't have a brain, it reflects in my awful writing." I folded my arms over my chest as our cab didn't move.

That's right, our cab was stuck in traffic. I just can't win, can I?

I sighed heavily.

I give up. It's not worth it to fight with him. He'll win anyway, he's my boss.

"Let's just get the phone, alright?"

"I have the phone." He was looking at me, as I turned to face him, confused.

"Then why are we out? What are we doing?"

"I don't have it with me, it's at the store." He rolled his eyes. "I called today and added the line to my plan."

"Why?" I was taken aback. There was something off with this whole situation, something wrong with it.

Normal bosses didn't march into their employees homes, demanding they go shopping with them for a phone that was already preordered.

Did he…did he want to spend time with me?

Nahhhhh.

He probably had this trophy supermodel girlfriend. Or some girl from some old money family, or some upper class family, or something, anything to do with a lot of money…

I doubted he had ever set foot in a thrift store. Pretty boy with his pretty money and his pretty suits and his daddy's money so he didn't need a real job…

"Why, what?"

"Why are you doing all of this? Getting me a phone, making sure I had somewhere to stay, paying the overdue rent on the office…"

"I'm going to turn that paper around, Miss Swan. It was poorly managed, despite your backbreaking efforts, from the start. First, I need to start with the management. You can't expect to run a business if you're not in the twenty-first century. You need a cell phone. I should get you a palm pilot too, to keep track of your bizarre lifestyle." He said rather matter-of-factly. "We're going to meet with an ink representative, they've been grossly overcharging you for years. We'll probably get a new company altogether, along with paper…Printing Press Paper has a deal with paper and ink, making it cheaper for corporations. We need to meet with them…"

"We? Why do you keep saying we? I'm just a writer, now."

I was confused. Did he think I was his little associate, now? I was under the impression that I would just be a journalist, maybe edit a little. But this…not all this business mumbo jumbo…

"You're so clueless it's almost painful." He sighed, shaking his head. "You're going to be my assistant, for now at least. You're being paid to be my assistant, with some articles here and there." He turned to look at me, no doubt observing my confused expression.

I'd been nothing but confused for the past two days. What was he saying? Assistant? I didn't want to be an assistant, I wanted to be a journalist!

"I think you're mistaken, Mr. Cullen." I replied, looking out the window, as it started to snow.

So that's what this was all about. No doubt I was supposed to tag along places, and he didn't want me to look like I crawled out of the gutter.

"I'm a journalist."

"And I don't care." He said airily, paying the man as we made it to our destination.

Great. It was snowing, and I was stuck in the middle of the city with the most egotistical man in the world.

So much for things turning around. This looked like it would be a nightmare.

Review! Oh, you people are marvelous, really. So…any ideas of what's going to happen next???